


Visiting Hours

by tomanonuniverse



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Torture, Moral Ambiguity, Past Torture, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:35:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25001005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomanonuniverse/pseuds/tomanonuniverse
Summary: She’s talking, but she only realizes it long after she crosses a line she clearly wasn’t meant to. “You know, you don’t sound so mad to me when you say things like that,” she tells him, and pinpoints the exact moment she fucks up in the way he stands straighter and tightens his grip on the spiked stick he holds in his hands, his teeth visibly gritting against one another in unrestrained pique.
Relationships: Herman Carter | The Doctor & Amanda Young
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	Visiting Hours

**Author's Note:**

> im slowly becoming more open to idea of Herman Carter in general so here's some self-indulgent stuff for my murder kids

Amanda hates this place.

It’s not just the dull gray palette of the walls and the unmistakable atmosphere of suffering that clings to the air. Just the fact that it was meant to be a hospital nearly makes the Pig halt in her tracks and go back where she came. Clinics do not remind her of anything good from her past life. Not at all. 

Still, she tenses her jaw and moves forward, entering Léry’s Memorial Institute with a purpose. She was to go in, retrieve the tampered timer she’d dropped here during her previous trial, and book it back to the meat plant. She’d considered just waiting until the Entity gifted her another, but she knows better than to assume she would be worthy of a gift anytime soon.

The flashing lights would annoy her if she wasn’t all too familiar with them. Ignoring the groans of rusty metal and what was probably the ghosts of those who lost their lives here, she beelines towards where she last remembers seeing her item. She had been vaulting through the little window in the office-like area near where the basement could spawn when she last saw it on her belt. It was a good place to start as any, with this endless maze of a hospital.

Of course it’s not anywhere near there, which forces her to venture out and look for it. She’s on edge the entire time. Not only does she hate this place, but she doesn’t like who hails from it. Most of the Entity’s killers got along just fine, though that gave a generous implication to how much they interacted in the first place. Regardless, there were some of them that were… shunned by the rest, so to speak.

The Nightmare and the Clown were the lowest of the low amongst them. They didn’t seem to understand why, but the other killers knew just what they were, what they were capable of. Those two were absolutely disgusting to them, and most of the others had fucking _standards,_ so they were cast aside and treated like the dirt they were. 

Another dubious character was the Demogorgon. It was the complete opposite with the creature, no one knew anything about it or could predict any of its plans, so they simply avoided it. It tended to appear from time to time, though, and Amanda discovered it was not unlike an overgrown very strangely textured puppy to those it meant no harm. Hell, it even let her pet it once. 

But the only creature most avoided out of nothing but fear was the Doctor. She’s one of those who did so— the man was a maniac (if he could even be called a man). She doesn’t know his story and never cared enough to ask. She and the others kept a good distance of over a hundred meters from the psychopath, lest they be captured and tortured for _science._

Except a minor oversight on her part costs her. She forgets that she can’t feel nearby killers the way survivors do, she had to actually see them, so when a shock runs through her and she screams as she falls to her knees, her heart pounding in her chest had nothing to do with a “terror radius.”

 _“Ooh, what’s this? A guest? How wonderful!”_ She hears the Doctor say from in front of her, though she doesn’t dare look up at him. The man’s face was a thing of nightmares, eyes and mouth pulled back with contraptions that looked far too painful to ever be Jigsaw traps. His footsteps echo in the empty hallway before coming to a stop right in front of her, where she sees his shoes through the eyeholes of her mask. 

Eventually she lifts her head, narrowing her eyes when the action receives a delighted and slightly deranged laugh from the other. “I’m not your fucking _guest,_ you weirdo,” she murmurs to herself, though she has no doubt in her mind that he hears her loud and clear, especially when he barks out another laugh.

He squats down to her level and it forces her to sit back on her knees, wanting her face as far away as possible from his. His head tilts and there’s a gleam in his glowing eyes she can’t quite place. _“A trespasser, then?”_ He asks her, the dangerous lilt to his word not going unnoticed. It was like he was looking for excuses to hurt her.

Amanda bristles at the threat, defiantly shooting to her feet and speaking, even when she struggles to keep the tremor out of her voice. “Look, I’m just here to take back something of mine I dropped in my last trial, okay?” She admits to the Doctor, keeping the accusing finger she wanted to point in his face to herself.

The (much, _much)_ taller man hums, seemingly amused by her act. _“You mean this little thing?”_ He coos, pulling out her timer from his belt and waving it around in the air for a moment. Her shoulder’s hike up to her ears and she straightens her back, tensing up and preparing for what, she doesn’t really know.

He laughs at her display, _again,_ and simply throws the timer to her. She wisely takes a step back and lets it clatter and slide on the ground first, eyeing it cautiously. Inspecting it for any foul play turned out to be fruitless because the device seemed to be just as she left it. She narrows her eyes again, not taking them off of the man as she kneels down to retrieve the timer.

Her doubt made him chuckle and she _really_ wished he’d stop fucking laughing at every Goddamn thing she did. The Doctor moves to turn and walk away, but she doesn’t let him off so easily. “That’s it?” She suddenly says, making him shoot her a curious look. “No catch? No kidnapping or torture? You’re just gonna let me take it and go?”

A downright insulted expression crosses the other’s face. _“Is that what you all think of me?”_ He asks her, though it sounded like he was wondering it out loud to himself more than to her. _“You think me some hooligan that tortures for the fun and pleasure of it?”_

Amanda raises an eyebrow behind the safety of her mask. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

He gives her an affronted scoff. _“I am not so… baseless. The torture I dispatch is for knowledge, not for entertainment.”_

“But you admit it’s torture?” She retorts before she can stop herself.

The other gives her an odd look. _“Of course I do. I'm mad, not delusional.”_

 _What the fuck,_ the Pig’s mind helpfully supplies. Every theory, every speculation she had ever had about the Doctor was shattered to a million pieces and taken away by the fake wind by this interaction alone. She thought she had him all figured out, that he was just some crazy, demented, sadistic psycho. She can’t tell if him being so self-aware makes him more or less insane. 

She’s talking, but she only realizes it long after she crosses a line she clearly wasn’t meant to. “You know, you don’t sound so mad to me when you say things like that,” she tells him, and pinpoints the exact moment she fucks up in the way he stands straighter and tightens his grip on the spiked stick he holds in his hands, his teeth visibly gritting against one another in unrestrained pique.

Then he grins, to the best of his abilities, though it looked strained even without the metal pulling his mouth open. _“You are treading dangerous grounds there, miss piggy, looking for humanity where there is clearly none left,”_ he growls to her, his knuckles turning white from his firm grip on his weapon.

Amanda swallows, her feet rooted to the ground where she stands. Her words seemed to strike a nerve in the seemingly carefree Doctor. She doesn’t get the chance to open her mouth and explain herself, because he’s talking to her again. 

_“I suggest you leave now,”_ he tells her, but it’s not even _close_ to a suggestion. It’s a very crystal clear _warning. “You got what you came here for. Visiting hours are_ **_over.”_ **

Without sparing another second, Amanda turns on her heel and sprints as far away from the Doctor as she can. She hears his loud maniacal laughter echo from behind her and the lights over her head flash and pop dangerously, most likely overcharged with unnatural electricity from the madman himself.

She doesn’t dare look back, running through the heavy fog outside the institute and knowing that the Entity will take her to her own realm in no time. Once she’s within the safety of the Gideon Meat Plant, she lets out a disbelieving huff, resting against one of the walls there and catching her breath for a moment.

Her hand had been gripping the timer so hard it most likely left indentations in her palm by now. Still, she looks down at it curiously, as if it would help make sense of anything that had just happened. She doesn’t have time to contemplate anything, however, because the fog begins to surround her form once more, signaling the start of another trial.

Amanda furrows her brows but lets it take her, unsheathing her blade with a quick flick of her arm and closing her eyes as the world around her begins to conform to wherever her next game would be held. 

She’ll have time to make sense of this later. Visiting hours will reopen eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> amanda:
> 
> herman: owo? whats this???


End file.
